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I lead him upstairs, wondering the whole time if he’s watching my ass and secretly hoping that he is. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone or even liked someone so I don’t really have a clue what to do. In fact, the last time I dated anyone was in high school. I’m so out of my league it’s not even funny.
“So, this is it,” I mumble, stepping into my apartment and the room seems to shrink as soon as he steps inside.
“It looks nice.”
I shrug. “It’s okay. The neighborhood is not super safe but I put an extra deadbolt on the door to combat that.”
“You think a deadbolt is going to stop anyone?” he asks, arching a brow, and I square my shoulders as I meet his eyes.
“No. It just gives me an extra second to grab my gun. How about you don’t worry about me and just take a look at the apartment?”
He holds his hands up in surrender and starts looking around the living room before stepping into the kitchen. “You mind if I take some pictures of the place?”
“Why? You got a girlfriend that you need to send them to?” I ask, hating myself as soon as I do. Why the hell does it matter if he has a girlfriend? It’s not like anything is ever going to happen between us. When I meet his gaze again, he smiles.
“No. I’m a member of the Bayou Devils. You heard of us?”
I nod. “Yes, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“We help people – get them out of bad relationships, protect them if they’re being stalked, save children from abusers – that kind of thing.”
“Oh…”
“We’re looking for a place we can take the folks we rescue.”
I jump up on the counter and cross my legs. “Like a safe house?”
“Exactly like that.”
“Okay. Well, go ahead and take a look around and then I’ll answer any questions you have.”
He nods and starts snapping photos of my living room before moving into the kitchen. I don’t move as he snaps a couple before moving on to the bathroom.
“Oh, by the way, if you want the furniture, I’ll leave it,” I call out to him and he pokes his head out of the bathroom.
“Really? You don’t want it?”
“Nope. My mom’s house already has everything I need.”
He nods again and disappears down the hallway to my bedroom while I try to imagine him stretched out on my queen-sized bed. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? I seriously haven’t even looked twice at a guy since high school and now all of the sudden I’m envisioning Lincoln or Kodiak or whatever his name is spread out on my bed naked.
“The place is great,” he says, walking back into the living room and it takes a huge amount of effort to keep my gaze above his belt.
“What’s your name?” I blurt out and he scowls at me.
“Didn’t I introduce myself at the diner?”
I nod. “Yeah, Lincoln, but in your email, you went by Kodiak.”
“Oh, right. Kodiak is a nickname.”
I hug my knees to my chest. “Why?”
“I’m from Alaska.”
My brows shoot up. “Oh, yeah? I lived in Alaska once.”
“Really? Where at?”
